The religious significances or symbolism of water
by DogwoodTreesAndBumblebees
Summary: .."He often had he wondered how all those years ago he let his life get like this. So out of control So unsure." A Tokio hotel fanfiction. A story off of the prompt The religious significances/symbolism of water, 1 in The Tokio Hotel Prompt series.


**Prompt: The religious significances/symbolism of water.**

By Hannah.

____________________________________________

Bill Kaulitz stepped into the bathroom of his very ritzy hotel in down town Vienna.

After he had turned on the lights and firmly locked the door Bill sunk to the floor.

It wasn't often that he did this, collapsed out of sheer exhaustion and curled into a ball.  
But tonight he felt he needed it.

He had worked hard today, with a signing first thing in the morning, then sound check, then an interview, and finely a sold out concert.

He was happy, he had all he wanted, a life that was worth any ones envy, great friends, loving parents and a fantastic twin brother, fans and girls who would do anything to sleep with him.

Bill Kaulitz's life was crumbling around his feet.

Sure, he had all he wanted, but nothing was the same, he wasn't happy as he should be.  
Sometimes he just wanted to go back to when he was fifteen and not a care in the world, but then again, when he was fifteen he was still known, he was still hated because of the way he dressed, what he did, everything. Bill hated school with each step he took in those white, gruesome hallways that had always felt more like running the gauntlet then heading to mathematics.

Sure, he had had Tom, Andi, even a loving girlfriend, but she was gone now, she had her own life, he wondered how she was doing, they had broken up when he was sixteen and she fourteen, sure, she was younger, but he loved her still to this day, he wondered how she was doing, last he had heard she and her twin sister had gotten a publishing deal with a huge American company.

She had always been writing, sort of like him.

He knew that when their first book came out, he would be the first to have it, in fact, he had already pre ordered.

Bill felt his body shake at the weight of what he was living, one more world tour couldn't hurt, he had said,  
but it was hurting, he felt like he was crumbling, always having the world watching him.  
Criticizing him.

"Bill, Are you gay?"

"Bill, are you doing drugs?"

"Bill? Are you and your brother in an incestuous relationship?"

"Bill, _are you sure you're not gay?"_

Bill let out a scream as he covered his ears, trying to keep the sounds out.  
The sounds just kept coming though.  
Smashing up against his head like the waves on the beach,  
With each tied it smashed into his skull with a roar that could turn any one mad.

He stood up, and looked in the mirror.  
What he saw was not what he wanted to see.  
Eyeliner, Big hair, tight clothes, all the things that made him _him. _

The things that you saw when you were at the concert, what you saw when you read the tabloids.

All those things, the sparkling personality, the crooked teeth, the laugh, the smile, all the things he whished he was but wasn't really on the inside.

As he often had he wondered how all those years ago he let his life get like this.  
So out of control.  
So unsure.

His tears mixed with his eyeliner as streaks of black ran down his face, he tried to crack a smile, fluffing his hair, but it just looked fake, fake to him, fake to the world, fake to his brother and his band mates.  
They could see how it all was affecting him, but they never said anything.  
No one ever says anything.

With a deafening scream he hit the glass.  
It shattered around his hands as a slice ran through his palm.

"FUCK!" he let out in a scream as he looked down at his hand; blood was running down his palm as he yanked out the glass.

He turned on the water and ran his hand under the cold tap.  
He felt the water sting as his hand pulsed.  
He closed his eyes for a moment before he looked back down at his hand.  
Water and blood were intermingling making it look like a ghastly sort of thing that would make any mother faint.

He was fascinated by it.

The skin on his hand hurt, hurt like living hell. But he felt it.  
It didn't numb the rest of his pain as those who _cut _so often clamed; it just added more pain to what he was already feeling.

But as he looked down at his hand and the pail pink water he felt slightly better.

Like here was proof of his suffering.

The cold water felt healing on his wrist.  
Bill yanked off the now wet and bloody sweat band that had been around his wrist and thew it behind him.

The water fell down his skin as his head went back.

With a gasp he looked up and walked over to the large bath tub and turned on the water.

When it was full Bill stripped of his strange clothes and stepped into it, his hand still hurting like bloody hell and his head pounding.

He gaspsped as the cold water hit his body.  
It was soft and cool.  
But it felt so good.

He felt himself shivering as he plunged his head into the water,  
he stayed there, under the cold water, as he said a little prayer to whatever god there was, whatever 'higher power' if there was one.  
he didn't even know what he asked for, just, nothing, he said a prayer that didn't have a name.  
when he felt himself running out of air and his head getting light he broke the water with a shuttering gasp.

His long hair plastered to his face as he pushed it out of his eyes.  
His hand stung more when it pressed into his face.

He looked around at the slightly pink water and sighed, letting the water sift between his fingers.

Like a cleansing rain.

_________________________________________________________________________

The next day when Bill came out of his hotel room no one asked why he was wearing a glove on his hand,  
no one noticed.  
For that was Bill.


End file.
